I Should Live In Salt
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: With Cersei on the throne, and a power struggle gaining no footing, alliances need to be made. Many flee to Mereen, to broker an alliance with the Mother of Dragons, including a woman with golden eyes that claims to have served the dragons of old. / Daenerys/OC/Jaime /
1. Chapter 1

**_Hi there! This is my first_** _Game Of Thrones_ ** _story and imma be honest that I don't know too much. . .okay like, I've seen the seasons but I suck at retaining some details, okie? That's why I have a co-author!_** _Aviator39_ ** _will be helping me on this story (_** _you should so totally check out her stories_ ** _) and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it._**

 ** _Now on to the serious business:_** _please, I am begging, that especially here on the first chapter, no one leaves a review saying something like 'that would never happen' or 'this doesn't make sense' or any of those types of reviews. Its the first chapter, there's so freaking much about the plot and it gets explained as we go._

 _Also, some characters may be OOC, but only a tad. I get people love the canon characters to be as close as possible, but seriously, we came here for fan fiction and if I want to resurrect Renly and have him dance through a lake catching butterflies with a banana squash I can label it crack and post it._

 _Just enjoy the story and leave a review, please lol._

 ** _NOTE:_** _Yes, I realize Jaime's name is spelt wrong and I will fix that but at the moment it is. . .almost 2:30 in the morning where I live and I just want to post this and sleep._

* * *

 _Heat_.

In the dream, she had felt the heat of dragons breath.

It burned the hairs upon her arms and upon her head, but did not harm her skin. She had felt the raw heat as she never had before, where typically walking through the flames. . .she remained unburnt.

This was different.

Daenerys had awoke that morning knowing things were about to change.

She didn't know how, but something was coming, and the dream had shown her a figure made of curves and golden eyes that commanded her dragons against her.

It haunted her through her day, even when the ships bearing the Stark emblem had begun to arrive on her shore.

* * *

Her feet ache, and that is putting it mildly as she hurried down the main thoroughfare that led to the Great Pyramid. So many bodies had pressed against her, threatened to knock her off balance in her own haste, but she had an important message to deliver.

She had been down at the docks when the Stark ships had joined the Greyjoy ones and she had known then that she could no longer delay meeting with the Queen.

"Too many bloody people," Ontari muttered to herself as a rug merchant nearly knocked her to the ground as he pushed by with his cart. "The great city of Meereen indeed," she grumbled as she stared up at the looming pyramid and the stairs leading to its entrance.

"Here goes nothing," she breathed and began climbing.

* * *

"Lord Commander," Jon sighed at the title still pushed upon him, but he did not correct the young man. "There is a ship docked bearing a Lannister flag."

 _Interesting._

"One ship," Jon questioned, never taking his eyes off of the coast, the waiting figure of a dwarf in the port. "The dwarf?"

"No sir, the letter from the raven says Tyrion Lannister has been serving Daenerys Targaryan. The man that lead this ship was tall and fair-haired."

 _Jamie Lannister? In Mereen? Should he not be at Cersei's side as she claimed the throne? Or perhaps she had sent him here to behead the Dragon Queen and eliminate one of her main threats?_

Jon's hand tightened on the pommel of his sword. _We shall see. . ._

* * *

Jamie had his real hand wrapped around one of his ship's ropes, while the gold one hung at his side. The salty sea air raked over him as he watched the wavering figure of his brother retreating from the port, towards the pyramid no doubt, to warn his new queen.

"If there was ever a time to pray to the gods it would be now," he murmured to himself, ice blue eyes scanning the docks of Meereen as his soldiers guided their ship into port. "I hear that the Dragon Queen's heart is not of a gentle disposition."

"Do you believe she will give us an audience, my lord?" One of his men inquired as he adjusted the red sail bearing the Lannister sigil. "I hear that she is also reasonable."

Jamie nodded distractedly, gaze zeroing in on a flash of dark hair and glowing skin before it vanished into the crowds heading towards the Great Pyramid.

* * *

She climbed the steps in a haste, stopping once to look back and gaze at the incoming ships. A wolf and a lion clapped at the wind, coasting towards the harbor in an urgent pace; she had little time, and yet she believed she had arrived at the perfect moment.

But she needed to corner Daenerys by herself.

Her eyes lingered on the fierce, perched lion sigil and chewed on her lip before gathering her skirts in hand once again and hurrying up the steps. The sun beat on her back through the cloth, and her heart was thrumming in her chest, but that could have been from anything.

Like the scent of dragons breath on the wind.

* * *

Finding a merchant ship to carry them out of King's Landing was the easy part. She had given the man her crown in payment for passage. But the hard part was surviving the journey across the Narrow Sea - the storms and the sea sickness were not something she ever believed one could get accustomed to.

"We made it," Margaery sighed in relief as she and her grandmother watched the pyramids of Meereen rise up over the horizon, the wind carrying them swiftly into the bustling harbor. "We've truly made it," she smiled genuinely for the first time in months, the horrors of her imprisonment seeming far behind her for now.

Olena nodded, her gaze as indiscernible as always. "Yes, now we must just convince this Dragon Queen that we are worth her time," she stated pragmatically. "Which I hear is apparently no easy task."

"We will make her see us," Margaery replied, voice full with determination. "For our sakes and for the sake of everyone left in King's Landing."

 _And perhaps, any in Westeros as well._

* * *

Daenerys let her thoughts wander as she made her way to her chambers, still trying to discern the meaning of her dream. Her fingers played with the silver curls that hung in front of one shoulder as she nodded to the Unsullied posted outside her doors before entering.

She felt the presence almost immediately, it being both strange and familiar at the same time.

"Who goes there?" Daenerys asked calmly, even as her pulse quickened and fear trailed down her spine. "I demand that you show yourself," she ordered, violet eyes scanning her rooms.

Slowly a figure emerged from the shadows near her bathing chamber and she eyed the dagger resting atop her desk. It was not far, but judging with sight alone, Daenerys knew she would not be able to reach it in time. If the girl had snuck past the Unsullied and snuck upon her, a dagger would do no good not already in her hand.

"I mean you no harm, Daenerys Stormborn," the girl interjected her, her gold eyes imploring as she stepped further into the main chamber. "There is something I must tell you and I knew that waiting for an official audience would take far too long," she continued, hands held outward with the palms facing towards Dany. "I beseech you to listen to what I have to say. . . _please_."

Daenerys eyed the woman and her dark locks done in intricate braids down the sides, frayed and loose from being unattended for so long. She wore a strange garb, something the young woman had never seen before; it was neither posh nor poor, she had no place in the world in her eyes.

"And you ask such a lofty favor after sneaking into my private quarter," Daenerys did not waver, eyes narrowed and firm on the woman. "But you may speak before I have you taken away."

The woman swallowed thickly and lowered her hands. "Daenerys, Khaleesi, I have come to you to offer my aid."

"What aid could I need from you?"

"I am Ontari, priestess and assassin to the long line of Targaryens before you," Daenerys' eyes immediately turned into deeper suspicion. "I know those words seem unbelievable, but I assure you I mean you no harm. I have been tied to your bloodline since their dawn and I have been awoken to serve you now that you have brought dragons back to the world."

Before Daenerys could speak, the girl continued. "I served your father and his father before him and his father before that and so on and so forth," Ontari pushed on, golden eyes flicking around Daenery's face for any sign that the Queen believed her. "I have lived for hundreds if not _thousands_ of years. I tended to the great dragons of old and taught Targaryen kings and queens how to speak to them."

Dany's eyes widened ever so slightly as she absorbed this information. "You knew my father and. . .Rhaegar," she murmured, her shoulders losing some of the tension they held. "But how do I know that you are who you say you are?"

"Your sigil is branded into the back of my neck, Khaleesi," Ontari explained, brushing a braid away from her haunting gold eyes. "If you would permit me to come closer, you may examine it for yourself."

Daenerys still eyed the woman with apprehension, well-placed apprehension. It was a hard concept to wrap her head around, a woman suddenly appearing in her room, claiming to have served old gods and masters. But then again, Daenerys had brought dragons to the sky's once more, and creatures and figures of old were not simple myths these days, so there was a single, fragile strand of trust between her and this golden eyed woman.

"Come to me," Daenerys ordered, voice strong and chin high.

Ontari nodded and approached her with practiced grace, turned at Daenerys' beckoning and tugging on her hair. As she had said, there was a raised figure of scar tissue bearing her mark; Daenerys ran her fingers over it, questions running through her brain.

"I have served you many years before you were even conceived," Ontari murmured, head half turned towards the silver haired young woman. "I would like to formerly serve you, and lend my knowledge as well."

Dany chewed on her lower lip while Ontari still had her back to her, letting her run delicate fingers over the raised scar of the three-headed dragon. "Did they force this brand on you?" She asked after several moments of silence. "I imagine it hurt quite a bit." Her fingers still lingered on the girl's skin.

"No, Khaleesi. They did not force me," Ontari assured Daenerys, smiling at the way the Queen trailed her fingers along her neck. "In truth, the brand was an idea of my own conception," she continued softly. "I felt that something other than my word and the writings of others to assure further rulers that I was who I said I was."

"Practical. But forgive me if I do not understand subjecting yourself to such pain to merely prove who you are," Daenerys replied, finally removing her fingers from Ontari's skin as she took a couple practiced steps back. "But, I will not lie that it assures me that you are indeed who you say you are."

A lie.

It was not the sigil alone, worn and deep into her skin, that had Daenerys somehow believing the girl who had snuck into her room, that couldn't wait. There was something to her words that rang true, Daenerys couldn't shake off the trust that had already begun to form.

Ontari bowed slightly at the waist. "I belong to House Targaryen," she promised. "It has always been so, my knowledge of the dragons has been what I am here for, among other things."

That was the most interesting part for Daenerys.

If this woman was who she said she was, if she really had knowledge and fought for her ancestors, she could be a valuable asset and ally in the wars to come.

"I must say, I am mostly convinced of your honesty and loyalty. Others may have a hard time processing, but perhaps you can prove your words and turn them around."

Ontari lifted the right corner of her lips in a small smile. "Do you mean Ser Barristan Selmy," she asked, gold eyes bright. "If he is anything like I remember him being then he will most certainly remember me," a genuine smile lit up her features. "I was the only one who could win a drinking contest against him."

Dany chuckled lightly, expression and posture fully relaxing finally as she observed how Ontari's hands lingered around her stomach. "I do not believe that is a sight I would be prepared to see," she said, motioning for the girl to follow her out of her chambers and towards the throne room, lavender eyes watching as Ontari pressed her hand flat against her stomach. "You are pregnant."

It was both a question and statement that had Ontari jerking her head up to stare at Daenerys.

"I am Khaleesi," Ontari answered, anxiousness leaking into her voice and causing the baby to deliver a strong kick. "Nearly three months along," she proffered as she rubbed at the spot on her belly that was just kicked.

"I would have thought you would know better than to risk a pregnancy," Daenerys observed, fingers laced in front of her. "With what you do, and the path you have now set yourself upon. It seems dangerous, reckless almost."

Ontari sighed softly. "It was not planned, but the man I love. . .he has lost too many of his children. I want it as well because I love him, the first man I have ever had feelings for, and I would not deprive him of what is consistently stolen from him."

Daenerys nodded, lips pressed tightly together as the reminder of how she lost her only child flashed across her mind's eye - the pain still as sharp as the day it happened. "All I ask is that you are careful and do strain yourself," she murmured as they approached the throne room. "I too know all to well the pain that the loss of a child can bring."

"I shall be careful," Ontari assured Dany, being so bold as to rest a small hand on the Queen's shoulder. "And I draw comfort knowing that my child will grow up around the strongest woman of our age."

"You flatter," Dany replied, blushing slightly - how did this girl manage to draw such reactions from her?

Not since Khal Drogo had her cheeks been heated in anything other than anger.

But this woman, so easily, had done so and Daenerys was in denial. She looked away from Ontari quickly, hearing the heavy patter of boots comings towards the throne room. Her throne was cold beneath her, back straight and expression neutral while Ontari lingered behind her.

Daenerys could feel the hesitation from her.

* * *

Jon strode beside Jamie Lannister in tense silence down the halls of the Great Pyramid that lead to the throne room. Of course the lion would be a coward and run from the reign of his mad sister, only to claim to be pledging his loyalty to another Queen.

Queen Daenerys Targaryen. A mystery in and of herself. The Mother of Dragons. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.

How many titles did a girl need exactly?

As they entered the throne room his thoughts ceased their churning and his dark eyes settled on the pale skin and silver haired figure sitting on an obsidian bench staring down at all them with a vague disinterest.

Jon swallowed softly, fists clenching at his sides as he strode at a slower pace towards the seated queen, Jamie at his side and still holding that regal stance even after all this time.

Pale eyes stared down at them in a scrutinizing manner at this point, her stance poised and perfect, considering she had never known true royalty and had lived with the Dothraki.

Jon was more than impressed with this small woman.

"Jon Snow," she spoke, voice fluid and practiced; she had known he was coming for miles perhaps. "Jamie Lannister. . .your brother has been quite the asset here in Mereen."

Jamie inclined his head, although his eyes remained fixed on the girl standing behind Daenerys and next the Queen's handmaiden and translator, Missandei. "That is what I have heard, Your Grace," he said, voice carrying well in the stone chamber. "I am glad he has finally found somewhere where he is both wanted and needed."

"Perhaps those in King's Landing should have listen to him, no?" Daenerys inquired coolly. "Then they would not be in the situation they're in now," she gave Jamie a cool smile. "For what purpose do you com here, Jamie Lannister?"

Jamie swallowed, blue eyes never leaving Ontari as she stepped forward to murmur a few words into Daenerys' ear. Her gown was of black and gold, a hugging bust that flared at the waist into soft skirts, gold outlining the folds of her corset. Though she had a small sheen of swesr from her climb, and her hair seemed more poof than posh, she was well put together.

"This is him," Daenerys asked Ontari in hushed Valyrian, violet eyes remaining fixed on the King Slayer who was now under the scrutinizing gaze of Ser Barristan.

Ontari nodded softly and stepped back again, eyes fixated on the man in golden armor; he never ceased to remain shimmering and golden.

"I have come to pledge my sword to you," Jamie raises his chin as Daenerys raised an eyebrow. "To protect and serve you. . ." His eyes flickered to Ontari. "And any other you deem in need of protection and council."

There was a silence.

Despite Tyrion's helpfulness, the rumors and truths of Jamie Lannister were enough to give pause and thought on whether he could be truly loyal and would be accepted into the fold.

"If I may speak, Khaleesi," Ontari murmured, stepping forward once more when Daenerys nodded her head. "Jamie is not the man that fodder and idle gossip has turned him into. True, he bears the title Kingslayer. But he protects those he loves with a ferocity worthy of his sigil," she paused, gold eyes warm as they came to rest on Jamie. "I would trust him with our child's life, Khaleesi."

Daenerys quirked her lips in a half-smile. "Do you indeed love Ontari and your unborn child, Jamie Lannister," Daenerys asked, voice even and gaze unflinching as she stared him down - a dragon and lion locking gazes.

"I am _not_ my sister," Jamie said firmly, hate in the back of his throat. "I loved my children, every one of them, and I love the one growing inside of her. She is the reason I am in Mereen," he paused. "I also figured, while I'm here, I may as well join the winning side of the battle."

Daenerys arched an eyebrow at the man, the way he watched Ontari with a gaze as though he were asking for her permission. Daenerys looked back at Ontari, but she made no movement besides blinking as she stared at her lover.

Daenerys sighed. "You may stay, Jamie Lannister."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Jamie answered, bowing deeply before stepping aside to let Jon come forward as more hurried footsteps came towards the throne room. "I will do my utmost to assure you that your faith is not misplaced."

Jon eyed the Kingslayer as he steppes forward, his fur cloak suddenly seeming very warm under Daenerys' impassive gaze.

"And what is it that you want, Jon Snow," she asked evenly. "Have you come to claim some birthright?" Daenerys continued as she stood and came down a few steps. "I know you are my brother's son."

Eyes fell upon Jon, all but Ontari shocked and disbelieving; Jamie seemed almost unsurprised, but it was still a tall tale to any ears. Jon stared at Daenerys with a stunned yet stoic expression, eyes shaking as they darted around Daenerys' face, then to Ontari's solemn gaze.

" _Ned Stark_ was my -"

" _Rhaeger_ was your father," Ontari said evenly. "I assisted in your delivery, your mother made Ned Stark promise to never speak of this. You became the bastard," Ontari paused with all eyes on her. "They would both be so proud of you."

"You look no younger than twenty," Jon snapped in a bitter way. "How can I believe you? This is lunacy."

"It is truth."

Daenerys raised a hand, silencing the room. "These final details are for later, I should not have said anything."

"Some things aren't meant to be kept silent."

A new voice interjected and Jamie and Jon turned to take in the sea weary figure of Margaery and Olena Tyrell. They held to each other with haggard eyes, hair a mess and dresses in shambles. They looked every bit the weary runaways that they were, having seen a great terror and still in the after shock.

"Well I'm glad we made it while everybody was still here," Margaery breathed in relief.

"The last surviving Tyrells," Daenerys intoned, giving the two women a curious look. "I cannot say I am surprised," she said, taking in the plain clothing and limp hair. "I am, however, curious as to what you are doing in my city."

Margaery swallowed, ignoring the dryness in her throat and the way her stomach clenched with hunger. "We've come seeking refuge from _Queen_ Cersei," she explained, glancing at her grandmother. "And we have come to pledge loyalty to you."

"Well, aren't you the popular one," the sly smirk of Tyrion entered the room, hands clasped behind his back. "It is good to see you brother, it has been quite the time."

"You could have come home," Jamie sighed, tired himself.

"Nonsense, then I would not be the Hand of the Dragon Queen," he tapped the emblem Daenerys had pinned to him. "And you claim home, and yet here you are pledging yourself to her feet."

"If you could spare me your petty sibling squabble," Daenerys stated, upper lip curling slightly. "I will hear everyone's proposals in the morning," she said, walking back up the steps and past the throne to pause at Ontari's side. "Tend to the Lady Margaery tonight. If the reports from King's Landing are true then she has been through more than most."

Ontari nodded softly, glad to finally feel like she was settling into her old role.

"Missandei will show you all to your quarters," Dany said over her shoulder as she motioned for Ontari, Ser Barristan and Tyrion to follow her. "There is much we need to discuss," she murmured as they made their way to the strategy room, its balcony doors thrown open to allow the sweet night air in.

"So," Tyrion murmured, peering up at Ontari as he nearly hugged her side. "You plan to bear my brothers child?"

Ontari's jaw flexed. "Yes," she looked down at him, feeling her regal pride returning. "We love each other, why would I do otherwise?"

"Many, reasons girl," Tyrion yawned as Daenerys peered over Mereen, fingers strumming on the balcony railing. "But we are in arms, I am assuming you have role in our queens council now?"

"She will serve in whatever capacity is required," Daenerys stated firmly as she strode back in, posture straight as ever. "Whether it be to council me or anything else," she paused and leveled the others in the room with a stern gaze as Daario joined them. "Ontari is to be treated with the same respect you would afford each other. Do I make myself clear?"

The others nodded, even as Ser Barristan and Daario eyed Ontari skeptically and with a decent amount of suspicion.

"If you would excuse me Khaleesi, you asked that I tend to Lady Margaery," Ontari interrupted gently, bowing. "If my presence will not be missed, I will go do as you have asked."

Dany dipped her head minutely before waving Ontari away, violet eyes watching the girl's retreating back.


	2. Chapter 2

Margaery stared out over Meereen, chipped nails against the balcony, her grandmother asleep in the bed chamber. She closed her eyes as the wind swept over her, bringing the scent of flowers and the food baked in the streets below.

She had not been calm in days.

Fleeing King's Landing had been trivial, the explosions devastating. Her brother had died in there, something she had so fought for while Cersei claimed the throne. Claimed the throne that blood, tears and the bodies of her own children had been built upon.

Did she even mourn them?

Her father had died there as well, along with the High Sparrow and all his followers. Them, she could not say she felt much sorrow for, but her brother. . .

"I finally understand how Sansa felt," Margaery sighed to herself, tensing as the door swished open. "Who is it?" She called out softly, not wanting to wake her grandmother.

Ontari bowed slightly as Margaery made her way into the main chamber. "It is Ontari, my lady," Ontari murmured. "Queen Daenerys sent to me to attend to you this evening."

Margaery's eyes widened slightly. "I - Thank you," she replied as Ontari opened the waters to fill the bath.

Margaery watched the girl, hands clasped in front of her as she did so. This girl moved more graceful than she could hope to achieve; years upon years of practice. . .training. Even the most elegant of ladies, with years behind them, did not move this precisely. Has she been punished for one stutter, one pause, one fault, hesitation?

"You were not mentioned when we questioned Daenerys' Council," Margaery finally spoke after Ontari had sprinkled sweet crystals into the water; they shimmered as she stirred them, hues of violet and bits of lemon peel in the mixture.

Ontari peered over her shoulder, shaking the final bits off her fingertips. "She did not know I existed until moments before you and the others had arrived."

"And she immediately calls upon you?"

"The details are long and many," Ontari straightened herself. "I will explain them best once everyone has rested, until then, know that I am an ally."

Margaery smiled and nodded thankfully at that. "My grandmother and I, we have none left. We need as many new as we can. The Dragon Queen, we came seeking her, so you can be trusted."

"You all seem to value Daenerys' views highly," Ontari stepped towards the balcony, hearing Margaery's clothes hit the floor. "It has been many years since a Targaryen was viewed so highly."

"We have all been playing the game for a long time," Margaery sighed as she slid into the warm water. "We know when alliances need to be made, and who the right ones for the job are. Daenerys has strategy and a well-rounded Council."

"And dragons."

"Yes, and dragons. They are more than raw power; they are a symbol of it. They are a symbol of the time to change, a new age."

Ontari smiled softly as she came back over to Margaery. "A brighter age. . .one where the people love their ruler rather than live in fear," she murmured, settling down on the bench behind Margaery and urging her to lay her head back. "I understand that you have not been treated kindly these past several months."

"You have heard correctly " Margaery replied quietly, eyes drifting close as Ontari poured a pitched of warm water over her hair and began to gently scrub it clean. "The High Sparrow manipulated my husband the King," she paused, sighing as Ontari worked her fingers through Margaery's russet locks. "Once I knew that Cersei was not going to show for her trial, I had to make sure that my grandmother made it to the boat."

"You were very brave my lady," Ontari murmured, working a light oil into Margaery's hair. "Even braver for journeying across the Narrow Sea not knowing what awaited you here," she added, smiling as her baby moved within her.

Margaery shook her head softly. "I knew what awaited me," she murmured, nose skimming the water as she softly sank lower into the water. "Safety, a chance to actually live, a chance to not have everything taken away from me. I knew we would be safe."

"How could you know such a thing?" Ontari questioned as she rinsed Margaery's hair clean. "Daenerys could have been the blood-thirsty queen most Targaryen's ended as."

"She has not shown such a tactic yet; she has only tried to play the game as we all have been trying to do. But now we are playing a different game, and my piece has been knocked from the board."

Ontari nodded even though Margaery had her back to her. "You are out of the game for now. But things may change," she said softly, working a polished wood comb through Margaery's hair before wringing the excess water from it. "If nothing else, you will likely play a significant role in putting the Khaleesi on the Iron Throne."

"If that is to be my lot in life, I accept," Margaery murmured as she scrubbed at her skin with scented salts. "I've seen what aspiring too high above my place got me," she continued. "I have no intention of suffering in such a manner again."

"You work too fast," Ontari spoke softly, pouring the pitcher of water slowly over Margaery's skin. "You must work slowly for the best; lest you be struck down like the best of us."

"I am not one of the best," Margaery closed her eyes, fingers clenching beneath the clouded surface of the water. "I am far from the best, and I learned that the hard way."

Ontari listened to the young former queen's self-deprecation and almost felt sympathy for her, but she did not. She did for the past days' events, but the girl did have a reputation and Ontari had not been blind or deaf to it.

Partial sympathy.

"You will make a new name for yourself," Ontari promised.

* * *

Jaime paused on his way to his chambers as the door to Margaery's swished shut and Ontari emerged. "I knew you would make it out," he called out softly, watching her turn with her skirts swishing around her legs. "I never doubted you for a second."

"Nor did I," Ontari replied, smiling widely as she paced over to him before embracing him tightly; strong arms encompassing her, she would never ache for anything else after this feeling. "But I am very relieved to see that you made it out of King's Landing alive," she murmured, taking his hand and placing it against her belly as the baby gave a strong kick.

"How is our little one?" Jaime asked gently, broad hand pressed against the bump that had just begun to show. "Strong like her mother I would imagine," he murmured, brushing the back of his knuckles against her cheek.

Ontari leaned into his touch, peering up into his eyes with a softness that was only allowed to him. She had fallen in love with him so slowly, she had no idea he would ever become this important to her. She had heard the rumors of Jaime Lannister, the truths, but beneath that lay a man that was twisted by his own family, to become a defect and changed from months spent in captivity. He had been conscious of most decisions, but believed from the beginning that he had been doing the right thing and, in a way, it was noble, if broken.

And she loved him even more.

"Healthy and persistent," Ontari murmured. "I had feared the trip here would have harmed her, but she seems as resilient as ever."

They began to pace down the hallway, Ontari following Jaime towards the lone corridor that opened out to the view of the sea, a door at the end.

"I was never meant to bear children, you know," Ontari sighed.

"And yet here you are," Jaime smiled at her, in a way he hadn't in many, many years.

Ontari pressed close to him as he opened the door to his chambers, the sea air already permeating the room with its salty scent. "You should smile more often," she laughed lightly. "It does wonders for you."

"I shall keep that in mind, my lady," Jaime chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her hair before unbuckling his chest plate and removing it. "I suspect that this will be the last time I will be wearing anything bearing the Lannister sigil," he muttered, looking at the lion emblazoned on his chest plate with an odd sense of detachment.

"I disagree. The Targaryens of the past always had their allies wear their own sigils on their armor," Ontari stated as she assisted him with the rest of his armor and outer clothing; so many layers. "They did it to show exactly how many allies they had."

"The Lannisters have always been a mixture of pride, greed and respect," Jaime shook his head as he lowered himself to the edge of the circular bed in the center of the room. "And now we are reduced to incest and dead children," he pulled Ontari to him, placing his cheek gently against one of her hips. "And now I have found happiness again, and I am afraid it will be taken away."

Ontari chuckled as she combed her fingers back through his hair. "I have survived dragon flames and centuries of being buried in history, these petty people and their games will do no harm to me."

"I hope you are right," Jaime inhaled as he lifted his head, grabbing her hips and smiling up at her. "Gods, but you are beautiful."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Jaime Lannister." Ontari laughed as he rolled her over and held himself above her. "I am already carrying one baby," she smiled, cupping his face in one palm. "I do not think my body can handle two."

Jaime smiled, cerulean eyes sparkling as he gazed down at Ontari. "Alright, just the one for now," he murmured and pressed a searing yet tender kiss to her full lips. "But we will discuss having more later."

"You are relentless," Ontari grinned, gold eyes adoring as she looked up at him. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him smile like he was now or the last time he had looked so happy. "I love you, Jaime Lannister. And I shall love you until the end of ages."

He blinked softly at her, brow furrowed while Ontari waited patiently for him to speak. He brushed a thumb over her cheek, gliding up her jaw, studying her face that stared up at him with utmost adoration and patience.

"I love you as well," he murmured. "Until the end of my days, I will love you and no other."

Ontari grinned, which caused Jaime to chuckle as she quickly rolled them over, pinning him to the bed. "You better not," she warned, but she still smiled. "I would hate to have to kill the face that steals you away from me. Blood is not my color, you see."

Jaime grinned up at her, a few stray locks of gold hair flopping into his eyes. "I beg to differ my love," he murmured, pressing feather light kisses to her neck. "I happen to know that you look simply stunning in crimson."

Ontari laughed lightly and slid off of his hips to the side, watching as he shifted his weight off of his gold hand. "I wish I knew a spell that grew limbs," she muttered sadly, watching as he sat up to undo the lacing and slipped it off, revealing the stump underneath. "How has your swordsmanship come along? Is the broadsword still feeling too heavy?"

"It's better. But I doubt I'll be of any use in a real battle at the moment," Jaime sighed, staring down at the stump with a mix of hate and resignation. "And yes, the broadsword is still occasionally too heavy during longer bouts of training," he conceded, before flopping onto his side next to her.

Ontari stretched a hand over his chest, nails raking along his collar bone. "You will be fine," she whispered, cheek against his ribs. "You will beat this; you will be a great swordsman once again."

"And you have seen this," he questioned, staring at the tall ceiling, the old stone above their heads. "Another one of your visions from the Gods?"

"From the dragons," she corrected and propped herself up on one arm, hair falling over one shoulder as she looked back at him. "And I did not see it. I just know." Ontari rolled over on her side, a warm smile on her lips. "I could teach you a different fighting style if you wish," she murmured, stretching a hand out to link fingers with his. "One that does not rely on as cumbersome a weapon as a broadsword."

"I will take that under consideration," Jaime replied, flinching slightly as Ontari rested a hand on his stump. "It doesn't bother you?" He asked lowly.

"No, it does not bother me," Ontari murmured gently, moving closer to press a kiss to the knotted scar tissue. "I love you. . .faults and all."

"That feels strange." He chuckled and pulled away from her to his feet. "This place. . .do you truly believe we can be safe from Cersei here?"

"The dragons will do whatever they must to protect their mother," She murmured. "And Cersei will not hunt us so far from where she rules." It wouldn't be practical, to waste resources on what the public would surely see as a witch hunt.

"She will hunt for me," Jaime sighed, hand on his hip. "She was more than just upset when I turned her down and left on my ship. I am surprised she even let me go in the first place."

Ontari furrowed her brow, gold eyes soft. "As hard as it is to hear, your sister is a coward at heart," she stated evenly. "She would not risk inciting the wrath of the rest of the world in the pursuit of one man."

"The only time it pays to be deemed unimportant," Jaime muttered, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's late," he breathed. "We should sleep."

"Not before we both bathe we aren't," Ontari stated firmly. "To the bathing chamber with the both of us," she kicked him gently in the leg before pushing herself to her feet.

* * *

"So, I am hearing this right?" Tyrion questioned as he watched the wine swirl in his cup, licking red up the sides. "That a woman you have never seen nor heard of catches you with your pants down in your quarters and you immediately take her into the fold?"

"She bears –"

"There are plenty burned with the sigil of the Lannisters," Tyrion pointed out, settling in his seat as Daenerys rung her hands in front of her. "But they ran the moment they got the chance. And you really thought this was a good idea?"

"I do not completely trust this woman," Daenerys admitted. "But I do believe her, that does not mean I trust her yet."

She wanted to though, she wanted to trust this odd woman and her sigil. Yes, she could have approached it better, and Daenerys should have sent her packing the moment she was caught, or at least shackled her, but found that she. . .simply could not.

Daenerys rested her chin on the curved knuckles of one hand. "Ser Barristan, you will keep a close eye on her in the weeks coming as we prepare to leave Meereen." She instructed, violet eyes settling on the older knight. "I want to know if she is who she says she is."

"As you wish, My Queen," Ser Barristan replied, his deep baritone voice seeming oddly loud in the otherwise quiet Council Chamber. "I will report back to you each night," he added, crossing his arms over his chest. "However, I am more concerned with having the Kingslayer and the Tyrells under this roof."

"And I agree," Daenerys murmured, pursing her lips slightly as she sighed softly. "As I understand it, the older lady – Olena will be leaving soon to shore up allies in Dorne," she paused and straightened herself. "We shall have to discern whether those allies are to serve her own purpose or ours."

"The Tyrells are no fools," Tyrion tapped his fingers on the edge of his cup. "They know what side benefits them the most, and they are few in numbers and support. Margaery knows siding with you can get them back on their feet, that is when we must be cautious."

Daenerys nodded, pacing towards the balcony, hearing Ontari's delighted laughter followed by Jaime's tenor. "And your brother " she questioned, looking over at Tyrion. "You believe we are safe with the Kingslayer?"

Tyrion hummed, tilting his head back. "Unclear, I believe he truly adores the woman. You watch her, you'll see how he is. If her loyalty truly lies with you, then he shall follow suit."

The others moved towards the balcony, leaning over its edge to get a look at the one below them where Jaime was spinning Ontari around in a circle. He set her on the ground, hair wet from a fresh bath; she was in soft, pale rags, her own hair heavy and wet down her back as she placed her hands upon Jaime's shoulders.

"I can't remember the last time I've seen him that happy," Tyrion commented, taking another sip from his cup. "I-It looks good on him," he murmured thoughtfully, mind no doubt straying back to Shae; how he missed that woman.

Daario chuckled under his breath. "I am not one to judge a man simply based on his actions," he stated. "But from what I understand, Jaime Lannister hasn't exactly had an easy go of it."

"It has been quite a mix of both," Tyrion confessed, watching Jaime dip Ontari back; she stumbled and laughed, catching his arm. "When the Stark boy. . .fell and Winterfell began to crumble, that was when Jamie's life began to turn."

Daenerys placed a hand on his shoulder, inhaling the sea-breeze coming towards them. "I trust your judgement. You do not seem biased on blood."

"I am not. I have had it turn on me," his voice died towards the end and cleared his throat. "Today marks a change. Cersei is not the only one we must watch for, there are many other hands in Westeros."

"And we are even numbered now," Daenerys murmured, eyes like steel.

* * *

Ontari laughed, the sound high and clear as Jaime spun her around to the faint strains of music coming from the city below. "I can't remember the last time we danced like this," she murmured, pressing close to Jaime as he swung them around in a circle.

"Because we've never danced like this, love," Jaime murmured into her ear as he sat down in one of the chaises before pulling Ontari down onto his lap. "Back in King's Landing the only dancing we did was in Court where we had to be stiff as a board."

"That is true," Ontari giggled as she caught her breath. "We should dance like that more often," she grinned and rested her forehead against his.

"Whatever my lady commands of me," he promised, eyes watching as she turned to stare out of the city, the breeze tickling the loose hairs against her face. "You are so beautiful," he murmured.

She looked back at him, a small smile tugging on the corners of her lips. "It never ceases to amaze me when you say that," she cupped his face gently between her hands, pressing her lips against his. "Centuries and I believed my only calling was the serve the dragon masters. And yet, I do not know how I went so long not knowing you."

"There was never another?" Jaime questioned, giving her a skeptical yet teasing look.

Ontari shook her head, playing with one of the free locks of hair that draped down her chest. "I was taken to the dragons at a young age, they were all I knew. There was never time, opportunity – nor none that impressed me the way you did."

Jaime chuckled. "Of course," he would never admit he thought himself so below her.

She had told him of her life she remembered, in a palace that seemed to float above the clouds, born under the careful eye of the dragons. She had known of her gifts when she was young, an orphan in a village beyond the wall, an outcast when she had made fire sprout from between her lips to warm her fragile body against the snow when none would allow her inside their shack.

And then the dragons had come, when she was just shy of her seventh year, and raised the village. Burned the homes, stole the livestock, and then one the color of the snow around them with golden eyes, had landed and asked what she needed of them.

Jaime trembled when she had told them to kill everyone, even the other children, in the village.

Ontari had power from a young age, many gifts even younger, and she had knowledge and life and opportunities and Jaime had been just a Lannister. He never thought he would find a time when he could say just a Lannister, but Ontari had proven to him just how low on the food chain he was.

A lion had no chance against a dragon.

He opened his lips to speak, but a knock at the door in their chambers interrupted them. Ontari was off of his lap and at the door before his hands could hit his thighs, his lips lightly pursed as he stared out over the city before his name was called

"Jaime," he looked back at Ontari, saw her with the door cracked. "Daenerys requests us in the main chambers," she paused. "Formalities and all that."

Jaime sighed as he pushed himself to his feet. "I thought we already had our formalities."

Ontari shook her head. "We meet as a whole, discuss assets we can use. It may take awhile," she paused and chuckled. "I can tell them you took ill."

Jaime snorted - he actually snorted - and began to lace his boots, tucking his shirt into his trousers; Ontari pulled her gown from the end of the bed and began to tuck herself into it.

The setting sun turned her skin golden.


End file.
